


Grinding

by yeaka



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Useless, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 18:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20532914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Noctis tries to sleep.





	Grinding

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Final Fantasy XV, V, or any of their contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

All nights are not created equal, but in general, Noctis can sleep through most of them. He can handle most kinds of beds—everything from the luxury suites of the Citadel to the thin sleeping bags employed for camping trips—and he can handle most kinds of noise—from busy downtown Insomnia traffic to Gladiolus’ booming snores. He can even sleep in the middle of the day when the sun’s high and all the lights inside are on, sometimes even when he’s standing. 

But then, every once in a while, something small and should-be-inconsequential wriggles in there and trips him up. 

For instance: the droning, generic dungeon background music of an old-school video game, punctuated with the cut-off sound cues of constant button-mashing and the occasional chime of a victory theme. It’s turned down so low that he can’t even determine the soundtrack, despite knowing it _feels_ familiar. It still feels intrusive. He tries his best to ignore it, but finally grumbles into his pillow, “Turn it off, Prom.”

“Sorry,” Prompto mumbles, and a second later, the music fades out. The button-mashing continues, but at least its not followed by the overlapping thumping sounds of pixilated battles. For a moment, Noctis soaks that in: the glorious, almost silence.

Then he realizes the light’s still bothering him, which is absurd, because his eyes are closed and he’s facing the edge of the bed: away from Prompto. When he cricks his eyes open, he can still see the faint glow the miniature screen gives the otherwise dark room. Noctis’ apartment isn’t nearly so glamorous as his Citadel quarters, but it’s still top-quality, and he has thick, thoroughly opaque drapes that completely block out the moon, stars, and bright city lights. Prompto’s phone is ruining that.

Grumpily rolling onto his other side, Noctis bumps his knee against Prompto’s thigh beneath the blankets. Prompto just grunts, not even batting an eyelash. He’s on his stomach, phone propped up on the pillow, eyes glued to the screen. Noctis mutters, “Cut it out, dude, I’m tryna sleep.”

“Sorry,” Prompto whines, not looking at Noctis but still looking genuinely sorry. Except he’s still playing. “I really gotta level up, though; I’m totally getting crushed...”

“Level up? You’re not even on a mission or something?”

“Nah, just running in circles killin’ shit.”

“What’re you even playing?”

“F.F. Five”

It’s late enough and Noctis is groggy enough to not understand right away. Then he clues in what the abbreviation means. Which has him dazedly repeating, “F.F. Five?”

Prompto’s thumbs finally stop their frantic flailing. He turns to Noctis with big, blue eyes, wide in horror. “Dude! _Tell_ me you know about the Fantastical Finality series!”

Noctis rolls his eyes, which Prompto will be able to see, because his phone may as well be lighting the whole room. “Duh. I’m just surprised because it’s so old. You sure you didn’t miss a ‘one’ in there? As in fifteen?”

“Pfft,” Prompto snorts. “Nah, the new one sucks, man. It’s all dark and angsty without any good story payoff. And it doesn’t have the pretty fantasy art direction the older ones do. And don’t even get me started on the way they write chicks...”

Noctis squints because he’s too tired to glare. If it weren’t two or three or maybe even four in the morning, he’d kick Prompto right out of his bed. Since he’s too exhausted to even roll over again and check the clock, he forgoes the effort of a fight and instead makes a mental note to wage that war later.

Prompto, blissfully unaware of how his unpopular opinion is making his boyfriend question their entire relationship, turns back to the screen and lets out a sudden, “Woop! Level four! Yeah, baby!”

“Level _four_? That’s all you’re at?”

“On my white mage! I’m trying to get all the good ones up. That’s one job class down, like... twelve or something to go.”

Noctis groans, then thinks to grab the blanket and pull it up over Prompto’s head. Prompto squawks but doesn’t emerge. Both the light and button sounds are vanquished.

Satisfied, Noctis rolls back over and promptly falls asleep.


End file.
